Mors Venatus Death Game
by Ezekiel Zeta Stigma
Summary: Just as another Hunger Game ends, another game begins. Four mortal contests: Hunger Games, Battle Royale, and two others; from four different worlds, all being run by a group of moderators and their unique set of rules. And as the game progresses it soon becomes obvious to those playing that there is much more than just their lives on the line. Rated M: gore, lang. & other themes
1. A New Game

**Panem Capitol  
****soon After the 73****rd**** Hunger Games**

"A hundred participants?" President Snow looked at his visitor. "You simply cannot be serious." The visitor, dressed in an all-black garb, grinned a wicked smile.

"No Mr. Snow, there will be one-hundred and twenty participants and I am _dead_ serious."

"But this is just impossible. All that is possible for the Hunger Games is 24 Tributes. Anymore than that and it would just be inhuman."

"Yeah I'm sure," the visitor muttered under his breath before raising his voice, "and that is just what we expect of you."

"Excuse me?"

"You are to handle the Reaping as you always do. Bring the 24 Tributes to the Capitol, but post-pone the construction of the next arena until next year."

"You mean you already have another arena built?"

"Almost, it's nearing completion. Give us just a few more months and we will be ready. Now, on the day of the Hunger Games, my people will transport the Tributes to the arena along with the contestants of three other events of a…similar nature."

"Oh, I see. Very well, I don't see anything wrong with the plan you've laid out, just one last thing before I agree."

"Okay, and that is?"

"What will this…mega-game…be called?" At this, the visitor smiled again.

"**_Mors Venatus…Death Game_**."

* * *

After the meeting, the visitor boarded a District-bound train, drawing stares from passers-by. He presented his ticket and withdrew into his room. There was a light beeping tone and the visitor answered his cell phone. "Hello?"

"Archtype-boss-dude, this is Leet."

"Any problems?"

"Nope, all are compliant on my end."

"Good, return to Sanguis Sphaeras and wait for me there."

"Yes boss." Archtype hung up and laid back on the compartment bed.

**11 months later  
undisclosed location**

A girl in her mid-to-late teens looked over the various computer screens. She wasn't smart by any advanced standard; besides, that was Leet's job. She just wanted to know as much as posible.

"So...how are things going?" The girl turned to see two guys in trench coats and hard-toe boots.

"Morning NBS," she greeted, addressing them both by their "last acronym." She turned back to the screens. "Everything is moving along as predicted. Just listen." She turned up the volume on some of the computers.

"Happy Hunger Games!"  
"BR-ho. Batoru rowaiaru!"  
"Idou, oi neoi diagonizomenoi tis arenas kentri!"  
"Zavtra, Krovavyy pesok Yezhegodnyy nachnem!"

"Well, they sound like they're ready alright," said NBS1, twirling a combat knife around his finger. NBS2, almost a head taller than NBS1 and a full year younger, leaned in to scrutinize the images and shook his head.

"Why are some people just starving to see the blood of the youth?"

"Because there are also shit-heads in asshole institutions. Remember, home of the rebels?" NBS2 nodded silently as the girl got up and stretched. "Oh hey, Virgo," NBS1 said as he stowed his knife away and slid into a position next to the girl, "I was wondering if you would like to go out for dinner sometime this week before the participants are brought in?" The girl, Virgo, looked up at him with a coy smile.

"_Oh D_, thank you for asking, _you're so sweet_. But in all honesty...  
...I'D RATHER DIE THAN GO OUT WITH A MASS MERDUROUR LIKE YOU!"

NBS1 cried out in shock and then retreated into a corner as NBS2 looked on after going through a full-body shiver. _That's just cold._

"Uh...you know, you could actualy TRY to be nice every once in a while."

"Maybe," Virgo replied, "but not to people like you two...  
...Doom and Postal."

**later  
unknown location**

Katniss awoke and sat up.

She was in a room with black walls, black ceilling, white floor, white cot, and a black circular block with an orange glow along the circumference. On the floor, next to the cot, was a grey duffel bag with a note. She placed her feet on the ground and picked up the note.

-Welcome Player: HG24-  
the bag contains supplies that you MIGHT need during the game  
do yourself a favor and DO NOT remove the collar  
more will be explained when the game begins  
Signed: GameKeeper Delta

Collar? What collar? Oh!

Katniss' hands flew up to her neck, feeling a solid ring of somewhat thick metal that was only loose enough to prevent her from choking.

Ting! tONG!

A little chiming sound made Katniss jump to her feet just as a feminine computer voice said: "All contestants, please enter the circle." The orange glow on the black block suddenly changed to purple and began to pulsate. Katniss froze, her hands shaking, mouth quivering, eyes shut.

"I n-need...I n-need to d-do this..." she said to herself. She clenched her fists a repeated with more decisiveness "I need to do this!" She stood, hefted the duffel bag over her shoulder, and stepped onto the block. Something snapped shut around her and her vision went black. She heard not a sound, nor saw anything but blackness. The ground beneath her feet seemed to vibrate. She began to feel herself slowly moving up. Light appeared above her head and slowly illuminated her body from top to bottom. Then she saw whiteness, then grey, then...

She was standing on a black circle in a bowl-shaped valley in what appeared to be a desert wasteland with the ruined shells of stone houses scattered around. With her, all on one side standing on the exit tubes, were the other Tributes. Across from them were another cluster of youth, this group larger and appeared to be all within the same age group, wearing a strange assortment of garments. To the left and right at similar distance were two other groups. The cluster to the left looked to be the second largest, they also were garbed in random bits of clothing instead of uniforms. And to the right, another cluster, the smallest, all carried stick-like weapons and were garbed in cloak-like uniforms.

"Well now...the players have all assembled...let the fun begin." A voice seemed to whisper from the very air, making everyone turn left and right on their perches, looking for the source.

A loud bang and a series of whistles and cracks echoed throughout the area as a prolonged flash of multi-colored light occurred in the midst of everyone, in the center of the ring of players. Light gave way to vapor and smoke, which slowly dissipated in order to reveal a figure. A tall boy with black hair that spiked up in the front and bright, unnatural blue eyes, dressed in black. "Greetings gisei-sha," the figure spoke, standing to full stature, "my name is Archtype-Delta, and welcome to Mors Venatus, best god-damned game ever!"

**to be continued...**


	2. First Blood

**Sanguis Sphaeras**

**pre-Game**

Archtype-Delta, if that was really his name, was quite tall with jet black hair that spiked up in the front and blue eyes that seemed all too blue to be human. His eyes seem to shimmer as he gazed at them all, slowly turning his eyes to each of them in turn. He wore black shoes (sneakers), black pants (cargo), a white shirt with a black marking of some sort (fluer-du-lis), and around his neck were two necklaces. The more obvious one was a gold cross on a silver chain, and the other was a white dogtag with a triangular symbol of some sort imprinted in black. He finished surveying the groups and stretched his arms.

"Pokhozhe, chto krovavyy pesok Yezhegodnyy poluchili khoroshiy vybor na etot god."

What?

Katniss looked at the others, who looked just as confused as she was.

"Kai oi diago̱nizómenoi Kentrí ... ev̱genikó ek mérous sas na érthoun mazí." Katniss then noticed something. One of the other groups, the second largest, had their eyes on Archtype and their eyes emitted...was it understanding? That must be it, he must be switching between different languages.

"Excuse me?" one of the Career Tributes, Cato to be percise, interjected, "Are you supposed to be giving us instructions, or blab nonsense at us in gibberish?"

"Just be patient, yankee." This outburst came from one of the kids from the largest group, the one where all the kids seemed to be dressed as President Snow would.

"And who the hell are you, Tribute?"

"What did you just call Mimura?" demanded another kid from the group. The first one, Mimura, and another boy both addressed the second.

"Shuya ochitsuku..." "Un-Shu, kantan ni sore o toru." But the second kid, Shu or Shuya, continued on.

"You may think of yourself as an honorable sacrifice, but none of us had a choice. We didn't even know about the law until we were gassed."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cato retorted. "Of course it wasn't your choice. Unless you volunteered, everyone is chosen by lottery. And what do you mean by Yankee?"

"That's what you are, baka Amerikahn!"

"And what do you mean by Amerikan?"

"Anata wa bakaka nandesuka?" One of the girls from the same group said with the facial exspression that Katniss understood as: Is this guy an idiot or what? Archtype raised a hand to his head and messaged his right temple.

"Okay, this isn't working," he then looked straight up into the sky and called out: "Oi! Can't I have that thing-a-ma-bob now?" Katniss could then swear she saw the sky pixelate and a small black box fell to the ground next to Archtype, who crouched down and opened the top of the box before a metal colar that looked like the one that everyone else had on, except that it had a few additional parts that were attached. "Thank you boys," he said as he snapped tha collar around his neck. "Alright, now can everyone understand me, regardless of dialect?" Everyone then either said: "yes," "hai," "nai," "da," or simply nodded. "Kathros-kathros, good, now all of you pay attention and I will explain all that you need to know.

"You have all been brought here to, literally, fight to the death. However, due to cultural barriers and the different rules between each of the different contests you came from, some new rules shall be laid out.

1: the contest will continue until there is either one player remaining, or by special declaration by unanimous vote by the game's moderators.

2: the game's moderators, also known as Stereos, led by me, have the authority over what happens in the game."

As he was talking, Archtype started pacing around a pile of black cloth in the center of their little... "encirclement."

"3: points will be rewarded for various reasons based off of what you wankers do during the course of the game; living for a full day, that's sun-up to mid-night, is an automatic 10 points.

4: the points will not nessesarily decide who wins, but the points help out in recieving stuff like...lets see...helpful items, medicine, special weapons, you get the picture.

5: apart from your opponents and the elements in addition to fatigue, hunger, and disease, there will also be some custom perks that we put together to keep you all on your toes.

6: the collars around your necks allow us Stereos to keep track of your whereabouts and your heart beat; taking them off will be considered cheating, and Stereos will eliminate any attempting or have already succeeded in cheating with utmost inhumanity.

And finally, 7: when the siren goes off, run."

One of the kids from the largest group raised a hand. "Excuse me, I understand everything else about the rules, but why run?" Archtype smiled and checked his watch.

"Well...I'd say you are about to find out."

A loud tone echoed throughout the area. **Dong (10)**

Archtype reached down and grabbed the black cloth off of the ground, swinging it around and positioning his arm, revealing the object to be a large coat that trailed down in the back, a trench coat.

**Dong (9)**

He slide both his arms inside their respected sleeves.

**Dong (8)**

He reached up to his neck and stiffly raised the collar (the coat's collar) so that it hid half of his neck.

**Dong (7)**

He reached a hand into the inside pocket of his coat and withdrew a pair of spectacles with blue-tinted lenses.

**Dong (6)**

Places the glasses on his head, the lenses seeming to glimmer.

**Dong (5)**

He reached a hand beneath his coat, grabbing something dark, gray, and metallic...

**Dong (4)**

...spun it around a finger as he brought the device in full view at waist-level.

**Dong (3)**

His other hand went to the front of the device and snapped something back.

**Dong (2)**

Archtype's feet adopted a low, wide stance.

**Dong (1)**

"Why run?" he asked in the incruciating silence. Katniss noticed that a lot of the large group and another group were all tensed up, some bouncing on the balls of their feet. "Because then you would have to say hello to my little friend!"

**ERRRNNNNNNNN!**

"Hashire!" Mimira yelled as Archtype aimed his weapon at the Tributes and sand lept up all around as a loud succession of cracks rang out. One of the Tributes from District 8 was blown off of his starting place as a dark-red haze hung in the air. Everyone immediatly turned-tail and ran as the female Tribute from District 3 was riddled with holes that spilled out blood onto the dirt. A third Tribute cried out as his arm was hit. Two Careers, Clove and Glimmer cursed as they got hit in the shoulder and leg respectively. She saw Peeta running at full speed ahead of her, looking back over his shoulder a waving at her to hurry up.

Archtype fired his weapon again, this time standing upright while holding the weapon in one hand while aiming at the largest group (who were already running). Two of the uniformed kids fell to the ground.

"Nobu!" the one called Shu yelled as his friend was shot in the back of the head and one of the uniformed girls fell to the ground. Katniss just kept on running, taking note of the incline of the ground and resisting the urge to look back until she was safe.

Archtype spun around, his weapon raised above his head, and fired a third burst at the group with a random assortment of garments. One of the kids dropped.

Archtype spun around again, holding his weapon out with only one hand. The smallest group dressed in cloaks was already running, but one of them was still killed with a shot to the back of the head. Katniss looked back just in time to see Archtype drop a canister out of his weapon, reach into his coat, pull out another, and place the new canister into the weapon. She faced foreward again and ran, bag still slung over her shoulder and the view of any possible place of safety in front of her.

* * *

Shuya Narahara supported Noriko Nakagawa as they staggered across the waste land. There seemed to be a "sheer wall" of mist, making it hard to see farther than a mile or so, but there were ruins of stone buildings scattered around. Shuya took Noriko into one and laid her on the floor away from any doors and windows.

"Lets take a look," said Shuya, kneeling next to her. Noriko raised the skirt of her uniform a little so the bullet wound to her left thigh was fully visible.

Bang Bang

"That's nine so far," Noriko said softly. After Archtype reloaded, he had fired his gun in every-which-way, reloaded a second time, fired randomly again, then withdrew a pistol and started walking amongst the bodies. Shuya and Noriko were nearly ran over by Yoshio Akamatsu as he fled, shouting out: "He's being thorough! What the shit do we do? He's being thorough!" Every now-and-then there would be two pistol shots in quick succesion. It was obvious that Archtype was making sure the people he shot were dead. Shuya examined Noriko's injury, tenderly holding her thigh and not thinking about much else other than: "its okay, she's going to be okay."

"It isn't that bad," he finally reported, relief obvious in his voice. "We just need to clean it out." He reached into his pack for some water and instead withdrew- "What? I can't do anything with a pot lid, let alone fight!" Noriko reached a hand into her pack and pulled out a pair of binoculars.

Bang Bang

"Ten..." Shuya said to himself, taking a water bottle out of his pack poring a little over her injury. She gasped in pain as the liquid made contact with skin and blood, but then Shuya took a handkerchief out of his jacket and began wrapping it around her wound.

Bang Bang

* * *

Archtype holstered his sidearm and keyed a button on the collar of his coat. "How's everything doing?" he asked.

"What the hell happened? You didn't fucking kill them all did you?"

"No Anarch; I only got 3 from the Hunger Games, 2 from Battle Royale, and one each from Stinger Arena and the Bloody Sand Annual. I let off an entire clip of pistol rounds though. All the contestants would think I probably killed off 10 or 11."

"Psych them wankers out Delta!" said a different voice.

"Okay thats enough lollygagging alright? Engage the point system and get your butts to where they need to be!" A chorus of compliance answered him and he turned the communicator off before taking off the translator collar and casting it aside. One use only, due to all the computing power it took up in order to use the damn thing. He surveyed the area one more time through the heat-sensing lenses of his glasses and slowly walked away.

**Update**

Deaths - (in order of deceased)

HG15: Harold Thatcher

HG6: Lina Dell

BRM7: Yoshitoki Kuninobu

SACI4: Akakios

BSAsec4: Boris Baryshnikov

HG19: Wilbur Eder

BRF18: Fumiyo Fujiyoshi

Remaining Total (after intial gambit)

Hunger Games - 21 / Battle Royale - 40 / Stinger Arena - 34 / Bloody Sand Annual - 18


	3. Welcome to the Blood Sphere

Author's Note

Most the characters that I will be using come from the movie versions of both stories. However, for three of the Battle Royale characters I will be using the manga versions of said characters. I decided to do this for these characters because of their tragic backgrounds (only two of them) and their relations to each other (number 3 to number 2). I will reveal these characters over the course of the next few chapters.

-Ezekiel Zeta Stigma

* * *

**Meta Mundo,**

**Mors Venatus Control Center**

**after the Initial Gambit**

"Damn, now I see the simularities between Delta and Epsilon."

Three of the ten Stereos were in the central hub of Sanguis Sphaera. One of them was Postal NBS, wavy blonde hair and an angular face with black sunglasses with ovular lenses, a trench coat, grey shirt, camouflaged cargo pants, and hard-toe boots. The others were Anarch and Free. Anarch, two inches shorter than Postal, slouched in a chair with his feet propped on top of one of the computers. His hair cut into a severe fohawk, and dyed a vibrant purple. His ears had one gauge each and two piercings one his left eyebrow. He had on a white sleeveless shirt with the anarchy symbol smeared across the center in red paint, a studded belt, black skinny jeans with red lines apparently drawn on with a sharpie, and a pair of Converse All-Stars. The only girl, Free, was half-a-head shorter than Anarch with red hair, cut short so she looked like a boy from the neck-up. She wore a black leather jacket over a tank top promoting Green Day, a black-plaid skirt, knee high red and white socks, and black Demonia Boots. The sleeves of her jacket were intentionally longer than her actual arms and she hugged herself as she leaned against Anarch's chair, her heavily eye-lined eyes enhancing her vibrant green pupils. Postal continuously fiddled with a double-barrel shotgun in his hands.

"I told you we were all good didn't I? Me and Doom both did."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Anarch. "Still though, I didn't expect it."

"Hey, I actually prefer Delta over Epsilon. Epsilon was just downright serious, Delta is at the very least adaptive."

"Glad to know that you haven't forgotten my genealogy " Everyone jumped as Archtype entered the large control room. "How is everyone doing?" Anarch and Free rushed to the screens and skimmed through the random bits of data.

"All spreading out in multiple directions," Free announced. "It looks like they are all getting lost in the fog."

"Good thing too," Anarch added on. "We don't want to give viewers the same old shit. We promised them a four-way death match, so we better give them a four-way-fuck-for-all."

"Very good, keep an eye until it's your turn for patrol." Archtype then turned to Postal. "Something wasn't right about transported players from Edre. Look into that would you? I'm going to have to check on the contestants from Aylmez as well."

"Right away Delta."

**Sanguis Sphaera**

Katniss continued to run. She could barely see anything apart from her hands, feet, and the ground a full yard in any direction. She stumbled as her foot struck hard and she stopped to examine what she almost tripped over. It was the rotted out box. with strange markings on the side. She walked around the box and was then able to make out the outline of a building. She rushed toward it and found the structure to be made of wood. She entered to find the ruins of a storehouse of some kind. Wooden creats, most of them rotted, were strewn and stacked all over the place. The roof let in light through the many holes in the roof and the only other opening was the broken down door. And on the far wall...is that a map? Katniss took a few steps forward. Something snapped. Katniss spun around, grabbing a piece of rotten wood in the process.

"Anata ga doko ni taizai shite, anata no buki o doroppu!" It was one of the girls from that large group. She had long dark hair and a khaki colored uniform. In her hand she held a jack knife. The two of them remained almost as still as statues. Katniss with her bag slung over her shoulder and holding a rotten piece of wood, the other girl staring Katniss down with as much energy she could muster without moving. Then almost as quickly as she froze, the girl straightened up and lowered her knife.

"Oh, you're one of the Americans aren't you?"

"You speak two languages?" Katniss wondered aloud, setting the piece of wood aside.

"Of course, we learn American English as part of our education."

"You keep saying that word, those other boys too, Amerikhan. What exactly do you mean by that?"

"You're kidding me. You and your friends all came from the North American continent right." That last sentence actually jogged her memory a bit.

"Now that I think about it, yes we do." Geography was taught in school during 1st grade, but since it wasn't at all that important in relevance to living in a District that was centered on coal mining. "But that is only the continent?"

"So what? You're still American."

"I hate to disapoint you, but your information must be misplaced. There is no nation of America, there is only Panem."

"Panem? I've never heard of such a thing. Is Washington the capitol?"

"We have a capitol, but we don't make up a name for it." The girl looked at her with a strange look in her eyes. She then strode to the door and dragged a long sheet of fresh plywood over the hole. She turned back to Katniss.

"Looks like we got a lot to learn from each other." She then walked back to her and held out a hand. "My name is Takako Chigusa, I'm from Class B of Shiroiwa Junior High School of the Kagawa Prefecture." Katniss reached out and hesitantly shook her hand.

"Katniss Everdeen, female Hunger Game Tribute from District 12."

* * *

"There, can you stand?"

Noriko gingerly got to her feet and wobbled a little before Shuya placed his hands on her shoulders to hold her steady.

"I can stand a little," she said weakly. Shuya nodded, and helped her sit back down.

"Alright then, lets stay here until the fog clears."

* * *

Artur Vody, a volunteer contestant of the Bloody Sand Annual, slowly probed his way forward. The fog was sure thick. He had never witnessed any of this back on Aylmez. It was a little chilly as well, at least his clothing kept him warm. Ironic, considering that the clothing worn for Bloody Sand contestants were meant to keep you from burning up in the heat of the sun. Artur spotted a shape in the fog and quietly sprinted to it. The shape turned out to be a well made up of light grey stones. Artur looked down the hole. Not seeing anything but blackness, he picked a pebble from the rim of the well's opening and dropped it down the hole.

1...2...plink. So there was water, about 6 yards down this hole. In any case, he should probably stay here until the fog clears. He just hoped that no one would sneak up on him.

There was the light sound of a footstep. Artur whirled around, raising his rifle and lowering his stance as he aimed at...

...a girl. A dark-skinned girl who looked at least 5 years younger than him. And she was rather small too. She didn't appear to have a weapon either, just a bag of supplies. He lowered his rifle and straightened up.

"I may have volunteered for this," Artur said, "but you are just too young." The girl cocked her head to one side and said something that was probably along the lines of: I don't understand you. Artur sighed and turned his attention back to the well. He had water already, but he also had a spare canteen that he was given because he volunteered. When he and three others volunteered for this year's Bloody Sand Annual, they were allowed to bring one extra item with them. Two of them chose additional weapons (a tri-barrel pistol and a rope dart), and the third replaced his regular ammunition with tracer rounds (which would allow him to fight in the dark). But Artur himself felt bad enough about the contestants who were actually selected at random, so he decided to take an extra water canteen instead. "I should've taken some rope with me," he said to himself, staring down the well. He felt someone's glare and looked straight into the curious face of the girl, standing on the opposite end of the well. "Well...what do you want?" Artur asked irritably. The girl tilted her head again, curiosity obvious in her gaze. Artur decided to ignore her. He could probably climb down, but he needed a light. He had both a flint and a roll of burn-rags (basically square strips of cloth woven together with a mixture of camphor and naphthalene), but he wasn't going to use them for something like this. No, it would defiantly be better to save the burn-rags until nightfall. He took his satchel off his shoulders and placed it in front of him on the edge of the well. Removing the flap and withdrawing both canteens. He uncapped them both and took a quick swig from the first one. He recapped that canteen and held the empty one in his hands.

The little girl said something that. At this point Artur was starting to get annoyed.

"You know, I don't understand you either." The girl then quickly made a gesture that surprised Artur. She pointed at the canteen in his hands, then down the hole. "Yeah, so?" said Artur with a nod and a shrug. The girl then gestured to the canteen, to her, then down the well. Artur blinked a few times, was she serious? "Okay, but don't cry to me if you die down there." He handed her the canteen and she quickly climbed into the hole and slowly disappeared down the well. Artur straightened and looked around, still seeing nothing but fog. Just where the hell were they? Artur wondered. If he could remember correctly. The fog wasn't this thick when this "Mors Venatus" game begun. He could've sworn that he could see bronze-tinted sky and blood-red clouds. But when the siren sounded and that freak, Archtype, started shooting at them, the fog thickend to the point where he couldn't see the sky at all, let alone what was in front of him.

"Dun," the girl said, climbing out of the well with a full canteen of water.

"Well damn."

* * *

Cato was still running. That was something he had never seen before. A weapon that could fire projectiles at a very fast rate. Guns. He had heard about them at the home (specialized academy), but he had always shrugged them off as laughable. A bow and arrow could do the same amount of damage. But that...that Archtype person and his weapon were something else entirely. The projectiles it fired were more along the lines of lightning, a solid lightning that pierced instead of electrified. In addition, the sheer noise it made was like thunder and the furious beating of the wings of some monster. What was that bit of mythology called again? A dragoon? Dagon? Drag-non? It was just...just...

...it couldn't be real, and yet it was.

He then stopped running and knelt to the ground. He still needed to find a weapon. But how the hell was he going to do that?

beep...beep...beep...

The hell? He ran his hand through his supply bag and pulled out a small device with a video screen and a note attached by a piece of string. The note simply said: go to here, use the rhythm; but the screen on the little hand-held device appeared to be much more helpful. It showed a red arrow on a white background, like a compass. Cato smiled, he didn't know what this was about, but he would be a fool not to look into it.

**Meta Mundo**

"It has been fifteen minutes already," Archtype said to himself, pacing back and forth. "And there has been no more deaths since the initial gambit."

"A good number of them have never seen a gun before," Anarch pointed out, "cut them some slack."

"I probably should, but the people of Erde especially were not too fond of the idea in the first place. They will no doubt require some form of appeasement."

"So what do we do?" asked Free. "Do we let loose attack dogs on them?"

"No, nothing that drastic. I've got a better idea." Archtype crossed over to another computer and pressed a few buttons. "Leet."

"ri83%d^3f8wEY9278bVc #!fU*X" Archtype sighed and pressed some more buttons.

"Alright then...Phantom Phreak?"

"almosttherekeeptrying" Archtype repeated the process and tried a third time.

"King of Nynex! Final try!"

"Dude, you need to watch that movie again." Archtype growled as one of Leet's proxy-logos appeared on screen instead of Leet himself.

"Stick to the matter at hand Leet," said an irritated Archtype. "The fog has done its job. Remove the fog and set the sky to 14-ssm. And while you do that, I want you to broadcast a number by Verdi."

"Giuseppe? Classical music? That's not like you, I thought you hated that crap."

"Not this one; besides, do you know what day it is on Earth?"

"Umm...May 22nd?"

"Exactly; synchronize _Requiem_ to the removal of the fog."

"Your the boss. Hacker-proxy-5 signing off." Leet signed off of his "proxy accounts" and Archtype returned his attention to a map showing the progress of the contestants in real-time.

"It is one of the advantages of this world that people can hate and be hated without knowing each other," he said to himself, remembering Manzoni.

**Sanguis Sphaera**

Katniss listened with eagerness to Takako's words. She pressed her for every possible detail of the world that existed long before the formation of Panem, the world where the United States of America was one of the great nations of the world.

"Wait, they had the people vote on decisions?"

"Yes," Takako answered, "I don't know everything about it, but the United States is not a democracy per-say. I think the correct term would be...renpo kyowakoku, a Federal Republic. Basically, the country is divided up into states. Each state has a vote in national matters, but the states also have authority over their respected territories."

Katniss had to think about this for a moment. If each of the 12 Districts could take care of themselves in addition to making decisions WITH the Capitol, then things would definitely be more efficient. Not a bad idea really.

"But what about war?"

"What about it?"

"Panem was founded not long after a terrifying war was started by the nation that came before it. Was America...hostile?"

"Are you kidding? Americans are frickin isolationists. They almost never get there hands dirty, unless they see their own interests threatened."

"Oh...then...what about-"

A loud and reverberating "gong" sounded. Katniss and Takako dashed to the "door" and looked through the cracks at the still apparent mist.

"Ahem! Testing, uno-2-san...good, I now have your undivided attention." The voice wasn't Archtype's, it was higher, with a mild accent. Katniss had a sudden image of a kid with freckles and glasses. "Due to the mildness of the situation, the Stereos have decided to remove the Fog of War until further notice. Oh, and bee-tee-dubya, you can call me Leet, every bit of technology you see and interact with here is under my jurisdiction. Personally I don't care if you all end up killing each other, I just want to do what I do best. Ee-oh-el. However, in light of most recent events, and of alliances pledged, it would be an honor of mine to welcome you all to the first ever Mors Venatus Death Game."

[Messa da Requiem "Dies Irae" (Giuseppe Verdi) - PLAY]

The "Fog of War" (as Leet called it) slowly vanished as music started up somewhere. The ground around the ruined house was obvious desert dirt. The sky was pure blue but appeared to have some sort of...grid...criss-crossing across the clouds. Straight ahead of them, some distance away, were desert mountains.

* * *

Shuya helped Noriko to the door and saw, apart from the desert wastes, a mountainous forest in the distance.

"So," said Shuya, "there _is_ more to this place then meets the eye. Lets go Noriko." She nodded in response and they both started off toward something other than bland wastes.

* * *

Artur Vody took long look around, then took note of the great ruined city in the distance.

"Well...I guess a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt." He slung his pack over his shoulder and hefted his rifle. He glanced at the girl and nodded in a gesture of thanks. "Wish you luck little one." And he started off toward the silver city.

* * *

Cato looked ahead and saw some mountains not that far ahead of him. At a little higher elevation were visible swamps and marshes. Cato glanced down at the device in his hands. The pointing, beeping arrow continued to point straight ahead.

"Alright then...I suppose I should just go this way."

* * *

Leet continued talking. "As chief system's manager, it is my solemn duty to welcome you all to Sanguis Sphaera, the Blood Sphere. And all of us among the Stereos hope for the best from all of you in every possible way, shape, and form. May destiny be in your favor.

**Now...go and fuckin GET SOME!"**

Remaining Total

Hunger Games - 21 / Battle Royale - 40 / Stinger Arena - 34 / Bloody Sand Annual - 18


	4. The First Day

**Sanguis Spherea  
Day 1**

Katniss looked at the map on the wall of the rotted wooden cabin. It wasn't very detailed, but it was helpful enough.

In the exact middle was a circle that was labeled: Initium Wastes. A little below the circle was an "X" with the words "you are here" in four different dialects. The X was in an outline of a thick circle around the Initium Wastes, as though the Wastes were a hole in the middle of a plate. This outline was marked as the War Ruinosis. On the outside of the Ruinosis were eight separate areas. These areas, listed clockwise starting with North, were: Albus Mons, Arbor Mons, Agone Montes, Dune-Blood, Moropolis, Abscondita Paradisi, Infernum Mare, and Cornu-illud-copiae Paludes.

"So what we see ahead of us must be...the Abscondita Paradisi? I probably didn't say that right."

"Actually, you did better then I could," said Takako, going over the their supplies. She frowned slightly. "How come you weren't given a weapon?"

"Because all the weapons are located at the Cornucopia. This time round I assumed that weapons would be scattered around and we would have to find them before other people find them."

"Wow, I actually feel sorry about you."

"How come?"

"Because all the kids from Japan were given random weapons to eliminate any natural advantages. Some of us would be lucky, and others unlucky, and so on. I guess I'm supposed to be unlucky. They didn't tell you anything before you came here?"

"Not really, we were just told that something would be different this time round."

"Wow, you really are the unlucky ones." Katniss laughed a little, taking the map off the wall and laying it on the ground. The paper was surprisingly sturdy, and looked like it wouldn't tear easily. This would certainly be useful, at least somewhat. Then she remembered something.

"Takako, do you have any idea what kind of weapon that Archtype kid used?" This time Takako gave her a strange look.

"Are you saying you never heard of a gun before?"

* * *

**War Ruinosis**

A city in a wasteland, this will be interesting. Artur Vody continued walking toward the monoliths of gleaming metal wondering if this would be an advantage or a disadvantage. He heard a click to his far right.

He froze.

Wait for it...

Click-cli-click!

He dropped to the ground and fired his rifle in the direction of the noise. The bullet ricocheted off the dirt only two feet from another Bloody Sand player. He lept up to a crouching position, shouldered his rifle, and fired. The player's shot whizzed by Artur's ear as he took his time to aim, and fired. Blood erupted from the other player's shoulder as he fell back, crying out in pain.

Artur reloaded again, drawing the bolt back to eject the previous cartridge and snapping the bolt back to slide the next round into place. He edged forward toward the guy on the ground. He was still alive, but he probably would bleed out eventually. He quickly frisked him and took the kid's remaining ammunition and started off toward the city again.

"I got into this, I'm going to get through this."

* * *

**Arbor-Ruinosis Border**

Shuya helped Noriko limp along, slowly but surely making it out of the desert. Neither of them were aware of how much time had passed. Shuya was still thinking about his friend, Yoshitoki Kuninobu. Noriko was simply holding on to Shuya, wondering if they could make it out alive. After all, who was there to trust apart from Narahara. Her hands tightened on Narahara's uniform, pressing her face against the warm fabric.

"Just a little further Noriko," said Shuya, "we will make it. We're almost there and we'll make it."

* * *

**Agone Mountains**

Thresh of District 11 dropped low to the ground. Ahead of him was one of the kids from that large group who wore all the same uniforms. The group that called the Tributes "Yankee" and "Amerikhan" or whatever. He probably should kill the guy as soon as possible, but he was curious. In addition, he wanted to know more about the competition. This guy would walk around for a while, then sit down and look at some sort of device in his hands before standing back up and continuing on.

The further the two of them trekked into the hilly mountains, the more Thresh could recognize how dangerous this place could actually be. The valleys were all walled by steep riverbeds and prickly shrubs. About a foot from the valley floor one either side the ground became far easier to walk on without slipping. However the ground was naturally ready for "hide-and-seek" combat. Trees, bushes, boulders, and simple holes in the ground were perfect for someone to prepare an ambush. Further in still was the eventual stone shack or a wooden shed. After what Thresh thought was an hour or so, lines of stone houses, clusters of wooden sheds, and even fox holes and small caves started to dot the landscape. Eventually, they came near the top of one mountain where there was a warehouse, made of concrete and metal, built virtually into the mountain-side. The kid stopped and looked at the device in his hands one last time.

"Yōi, don!" a chorus of voices called out. To Thresh it almost sounded like "heave ho" than anything else. The other guy looked up at the warehouse then dashed forward. Thresh taking note of the smile of relief that had appeared on the kid's face.

* * *

Hiroki Sugimura ran into the run-down warehouse as the calls of "Ready go!" continued to ring out. A little inside he saw to his delight, Shinji Mimura, Keita Iijima, and Yutaka Seto, hefting something large and bulky.

"Mimura!" All three jumped and looked toward the source of the noise.

"Sugimur-AH!" The three of them stumbled and dropped whatever they were carrying. It would've tumbled down the stairs too if Sugimura hadn't dropped his bag and coat and ran to assist. "So you're still alive?" Mimura panted. "I'm glad. Ready go!"

All four of them heaved.

"Same here," said Sugimura. "Ready go!"

Heave.

"What is this thing Mim? Ready go!"

Heave.

"I have a hunch. Ready go!"

Heave.

When they finally got to the top floor, Mimura brought out the laptop he had brought along in his school bag. He brushed off the large, black, and cube-shaped monstrosity that they had lugged up the stairs. He slid his fingers over the smooth surface and found an outlet for ten to fifteen types of plugs. he took a wire from his pack and connected the giant thing to his laptop. Further examination revealed a dark green pictograph of what appeared to be a sun with two arms. Mimura pressed a finger against it and the symbol instantly begun glowing fluorescent purple as the thing began emitting a low pitched cross between a buzz and a hum.

"Bonzai!" Mimura called out, punching the air.

"Is it...a generator?" asked Iijima.

"Yeah, and a powerful one if I'm not mistaken."

"So it can power up the computer?" wondered Seto, looking over Mimura's shoulder as he started up the laptop. "Can it get us out of here?" Mimura took note of the computer starting up three times faster than normal and the screen didn't need to be adjusted for brightness. He moved his mouse and clicked. He waited, then was crest fallen.

"Damn, no internet." The four of them gathered around the generator, still and in silence. After a while, Iijima, hoping to change the subject, looked to Sugimura and asked: "What weapon have you got?"

"This," Sugimura replied, pulling a device out of the pocket of his uniform coat. "It isn't really a weapon but, better than nothing."

"A GPS!" Iijima and the other two immediately crowded in to examine the handheld digital map.

"That's a great weapon," Mimura complemented, "that's far better than any gun."

"So this is how you found us?" Seto asked. Sugimura just gave a shrug, although he was now smiling in reassurance.

"Yeah, I geuss I'm better off than most. What did you get?" he asked Iijima.

"I got a cooking knife, and Mim here got an automatic pistol."

"Nice, and what did you get?" he asked Seto.

"I got a fork," he said miserably.

"Oh, sorry about that."

"Umm...hello?" The four of them jumped to their feet as a dark-skinned boy with specialized clothes on. Sugimura and Seto backed off as Iijima pulled his knife and Mimura withdrew the pistol from the waistband of his pants.

* * *

"Chikadzukanai!" the guy with the strange weapon shouted. "Idō shite, watashi wa utsu zo!" Thresh raised his hands in a non-offensive gesture, but stood his ground.

"Okay," he said aloud. "I'm guessing you can't understand me."

"You one of the Americans?" the kid with the weapon asked.

"I don't know what you mean by Amerikhan, but yeah, sure. Look-" he slung his bag forward and opened his jacket. "-I'm unarmed, and I am probrably ill-prepared for any of this."

"Yeah, sure. Drop your bag and coat on the ground and kick them over." Thresh did as he was told and two of the four searched the items throughly before looking to the one with the weapon and saying: "Sore wa daijōbudesu. Kare wa buki o motte imasen." The one with the weapon then nodded and stowed his weapon away.

"Looks like we have a lot to talk about."

* * *

**Arbor Mons**

Now surrounded on all sides by trees, Shuya and Noriko set their packs down and sat down with their backs against a tree.

"Shuya?"

"Yes?"

"You think there is a way out?" Shuya thought about this for a while before answering.

"I don't know. The way that Archtype and Leet were talking, it sounded as though they have the entire world under their control. Maybe we're trapped on an artificial world of some sort. But maybe if we get in touch with Mimura and Sugimura, we might be able to figure something out."

"Actually-" Noriko started to say, but stopped.

"What is it?"

"Well...I don't really trust them."

"Oh...I see. What about me then?" Shuya was then surprised to feel Noriko's head alight on his shoulder.

"The only person I can find myself to trust, is you, Narahara."

* * *

**War Ruinosis, south east area**

A wild burst from an uzi caused four boys and a girl to fall to the ground, blood hanging in the air before it left a spray on the ground. The only one left standing was Kazuo Kiriyama. On the ground, the girl whimpered and squirmed to try and get up. Kazuo promptly strode up to her and emptied the uzi, skin melting away in quarter-width segments, blood spouting up, and the corpse twitching until the uzi ran out of bullets.

"Rata-fucking-tat," said Kazuo as he reloaded. He went through the various duffel bags and loaded up on water, ammunition, and a pistol along with the uzi he slung over his shoulder. He set off toward the sun that was just about to set, walking north by north-west.

**Update**

Hunger Games: 21 / Battle Royale: 35 / Stinger Arena: 34 / Bloody Sand Annual: 17


End file.
